The Spiritual Age
by Dr. Magana
Summary: A group of warriors has been walking the earth for ages, spreading fear and destruction where they tread.  One of yellow has been prophesized to come to set them at rest, and to fulfill the prophecy he'll need the help of an old enemy.
1. Chapter 1

**Finally, I was able to edit this, hopefully I can keep to this story now. WARNING: Contains blood, gore, and very naughty language.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all belongs to their owners of course. I just love writing about it.**

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><p>Death is a constant that all of mankind must come to accept. It is said that those who come to terms with this truth become powerful for it and death becomes their weapon; then there are those who wish to fight this letting fear fuel their strength. The length some go through to preserve their own lives eventually poisons the mind and corrupts the mightiest of hearts.<p>

The wasteland was devoid of life, the sand twisting around in the wind, and the bone white trees placed as a reminder of what once may have been in this place. The sun rested above in the sky, as the clouds teased with moments of respite from the light. No normal human could stand the heat, but the samurai was anything but normal. His skills are honed to the finest point like a gem that all who know his name both fear and reverie him and that weapon of destruction he bears. The Reins of the World: the cardboard tube; many wicked hearts have fallen before him, each one deserving of their fate.

He raised his head and smiled for it seemed fate has finally sent a haven. In the distance he can see the outskirt of a village, and with it, hopefully, a restful night. The wind picked up, a vulture screeched above him as it flew ahead. A smell surrounded the samurai, and the smile quickly faded as he recognized the smell. One he was too common with: the smell of death. 

The village was a ghost town, only the bodies were still fresh. The samurai walked through the square taking in the scene. People littered the ground; no space was spared from the gore that seeped from the lot. Walls splattered with red depicting the chaos, and various buildings burning as if to ward off death. Corpses of warriors, elders, even women and children, were all laid out for the vultures above to feast. The samurai stopped in his tracks to offer a moment of silence for all the lost souls, but the silence was broken when a cry yelled out.

A few feet away from him, laying under a murder of crows, a man clung to the last thread of life. The samurai dashed to him, drew his weapon, and slashed at the crow sending one to death and the others to the sky.

He could not tell whether this man was truly the source of the sound seeing how he could not guess how one could still be alive with the wounds done to him. His left elbow was caved in, and he had a hole through his chest, along with a massive welt on his head that had turned a sickening purple. The man gasped again, and he stared at the samurai with his one good eye. "Please," he gagged, "save my family, my wife and daughter." The samurai could see the strain on the man's face to lift his right arm, as he used his whole arm in place of his fingers to point to his left down a path that led out of the village. "He went after them. That monster went after them." He coughed before his arm went limp as death arrived. The samurai bowed his head in respect, and then made his trek to fulfill the dying man's wish.

Silence filled the wasteland, as if it anticipated what awaited the samurai within its grasp. A pool of blood was found a few feet out of the village and with it a trail of bloody footsteps. The samurai quickened his pace, hoping to at least be able to save someone. His hope disappeared when he came across a figure poised over two fresh corpses.

The stranger had a blade in hand that he pulled out from one of the corpses, and using his tattered kimono he cleaned it off. From his distance the samurai could make out only a few details of this man. His shoulder length black hair was littered with dirt and twigs, and on his back was a thin 5-foot long object that was wrapped up in bandages. He could tell they were used as a cloth as it was stained in red on several spots.

"How could you do this," questioned the samurai. The stranger did not even twitch at the response, but he did turn to look at him. The samurai gripped the cardboard tube tighter as he noticed the man's eyes. They were devoid of emotion, and if anything he could detect a hint of joy which made him disgusted.

"What's that? How could I do this? Easy," he replied smiling, "like this." The attack was quick, this man was no stranger to a sword, but the samurai easily block the slash made for his neck. The stranger only seemed to bounce off the block, and was quick to launch another attack as he bounded behind him. The samurai used quick footwork to dodge this one, and he retaliated by bringing his cardboard tube down on his blade. It shattered and fell to the ground; being disarmed did not have the desire effect of discouraging the stranger, if anything he seemed happy for it.

He jumped back to avoid a thrust from the cardboard tube. "Well, that was highly unexpected. No skin off my bone anyway, it was not even my blade to begin with." He threw the handle away. He stretched his arms out, "Yeah, I stole it off this guy I was killing, but that's when I noticed that women and her little girl running away. Being the kind man I was I chased after them and let the crows have at him." The samurai could feel his rage bubbling under the surface. The stranger continued with his stretching, "Strangest thing though, he seemed to scream at me to come back. I wonder if he knew them. Wouldn't it be funny if he did, and I used his own sword, the one he probably used countless times to protect them, to kill them." He laughed, and that was the last drop that overflowed the dam. The samurai dashed forward his tube raised high, but the stranger only smiled reaching behind as he pulled out the thing on his back. The tube stopped cold against it, a ringing was heard, but the ringing was also crying. The samurai was taken back for a moment and the stranger took this moment to bring the weapon down on his right shoulder. A crunching sound was heard as the bones on the point of impact were crushed by the end of his weapon. The samurai quickly reacted and jumped back thankfully breaking the attack before it could do any more damage. It slammed against the ground causing the earth to shake for a moment. The samurai touched his shoulder, noting the ice cold feeling around the spot. His arm was useless for now.

The stranger smiled as he undid the bandage around his weapon, revealing a long slim silver thing. "Behold, my friend; you have the honor to die by what some have called the hand of death, the hammer of destruction, the spear of damnation: the Steel Pipe." He twirled it with ease in his left hand, showcasing one end was solid steel and the other end was sharpened to a fine point. As the spear end twirled about it was scratching up the ground, the pipe was eager for battle. "Prepare for death."

He dashed forward brandishing his pipe, even with one arm out of commission the samurai was able to hold off the attack. The two grappled for control over the battle, back and forth, the wasteland playing patron to these two great warriors as they fought. The samurai landed a few slashes to the stranger but he only shrugged them and returned the favor cutting into the samurai's kimono with his spear end. Each one was strong in spirit, both not showing any signs of slowing down. The stranger was enjoying himself, and he gets so delighted in fighting an injured opponent. He focused his attack from the right knowing of the damage he dealt, and attacked with the spear end. The samurai easily dodged the assault, but not before it ripped through the kimono around his right shoulder. The torn fabric fell a little, and instantly something changed in the stranger. In one quick motion he put a vast distance between him and the samurai, his eyes wide like he seen death itself.

"That mark, on your shoulder, where did you get it," he hissed out, the ringing of the pipe intensified like a cornered animal defending itself.

"What does it matter," replied the samurai.

"It matters," shouted the stranger. He gripped his head, '_How can this be, this can't be him.'_

He steadied himself, and the decision was made. The pipe seemed to hiss as the icy touch of it froze over. The field lay in ruins, and the two men were coloring it with their blood.

The two stared each other down, as their wounds went unattended to.

The stranger started cackling, before he burst out into laughter. "I thought I would never get the honor to fight you. Out of all my years I have never faced an opponent quite as unique as you. I have to say I am impressed."

He stopped, and remarked, "But I am saddened to say it is about time to end this."

"I could not agree more," responded the samurai.

The duel was on as they eyed each other, waiting for the moment to strike. Wind blew around them offering one last rest before the time came. In one quick motion the two dashed at each other.

The samurai coughed as he was pierced through his side by the pipe, but the stranger roared out when the tube went through his chest piercing his heart. They withdrew their weapons and the two stumbled back. Blood trickled out from both opponents. The samurai's vision became hazy, but he could make out the smile on the stranger's face. He touched the new hole in his chest and laughed.

"You didn't disappoint," the man fell to the ground and died. The samurai fell to his knees, trying his best to maintain conciseness, but the battle was too much, and his energy was spent. He fell to the ground and passed out into the darkness.

The end is not as it seems, for death did not come.

The steel pipe shook at the death of its master, and in one like a bird flew up into the sky. It spun around for awhile before straightening out and flying off. The corpse of the stranger lay dead in a pool of his own blood, till it burst into dirt. From the mound flew a shadow chasing after the pipe. Zooming across the sky it followed the path it took many time before. Over forests, mountains, and cities, it flew heading to the home of the damned; following the pipe on the ground was the shadow.

Standing on the edge of a rocky cliff was a castle; the typical castle of the time, four levels made up this esteemed place, and each one had a balcony for easy observation for the occupants. The steel pipe flew up towards the fourth floor, the shadow following after. A window remained open for just this occasion. It cut corners in the labyrinth like interior of the castle before reaching the center of the maze. Dashing through the door, the occupants, who were at the time having tea, paid it no heed. Landing in front of a double door that led nowhere the steel pipe fell to the ground. The shadow crawled into the room and slid behind the doors. A glow erupted from behind as the room shook. Screams could be heard echoing off the wall as it seemed death itself was calling out in rage. The doors slid open, and the stranger stepped out picking his steel pipe off the ground relishing its icy cold touch against his flesh.

"Hello again, Mr. Blinky, I see you were killed. Tell me which mortal was it this time?" The woman in pink sitting at the table in the center of the room laughed for she did love poking fun at him.

Mr. Blinky scowled at her, "For your information, Ms. Pinky, I was killed by someone special this time."

"Oh," she said feigning surprise, "did you happen to get contact information for a date later?"

"Silence," he roared, "it was _him_."

She fell silent, and the smaller man in the room started fidgeting. "You mean _him him, _the one sent to kill us, but that is impossible." He started mumbling to himself out of fear of speaking out.

"Calm yourself Mr. Inky, we don't know for certain yet," she sent a piercing look towards Mr. Blinky for claiming such an outrageous thing.

The fourth member of the group let out a gasp, "Yes."

Silence filled the room as the three listened to their leader, "It . . . is."

He gasped again as drool dribbled from his mouth. A squeak was let out as the invisible demon wrapped around him slithered up to his mouth and wiped away the drool.

"Yes, Mr. C.," answered Ms. Pinky respectfully, "sorry for my outburst."

He started making a gagging sound, his hands twitching, "Prepare . . . death . . . nears."

Back at the battle sight, two scouts were patrolling by order of their master. Nothing was special about them, which is why the master sent them out because there is nothing special about them.

The girl was whistling to herself after just stuffing a crow's corpse into her bag of loot. Her eyes scanned the horizon of the wasteland for anything worth stealing, or as she calls it 'finders keepers'.

She scrunched up her nose, "That village was a total waste of time."

The bigger man commented, "The service was dead there."

"Not even a small dog left." She whined softly. Her foot stopped in mid-air as she spotted something.

"Look, over there," the smaller of the two not-so-special scouts jumped onto the bigger ones head turning it into the direction she was pointing, successfully cracking his neck.

"What I don't see anything but dirt," he replied scratching his head.

"No you fucktard, there in the dirt."

He focused and indeed he could see someone lying in the dirt.

"Well that's not a good place for a nap."

"Let's go see if he has any money on him, or better yet if he is dead."

She jumped off his head giggling as she ran towards her target.

When the two reached their point of interest they both froze.

"Do you know who this is?"

"No."

"The yellow kimono, the cardboard tube?"

He scratched his head, "Still nothing."

"Yeah me neither," she said placing a hand to her chin. She thought about it, turning the gears in her not-so-special-head-so-stop-wondering-about-it brain. Thankfully a light bulb went on, but sadly it was only a 35 watt bulb. "Maybe Master Brahe would know."

"Yeah, he knows everything," commented the big man picking up their bags of loot.

He reached down and pulled the unconsciousness samurai up, draped him over his shoulder and with the girl on his head they both made their way to the fortress of their very-special master.

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed it, and please, PLEASE, don't hesitate to point out errors because there are some things I am not certain about. All reviews welcome, just please don't flame for it burns, it BURNS! FYI: For those who did not get the reference the names are those of the ghosts from Pac-Man. <strong>


	2. The Ones who defied Fate

Sorry it took so long to post, just making some final adjustments, and fixing a techinical error. Ok, a note before we begin, this is my attempt at introducing Tycho's character into the Cardboard universe, I had one other idea in mind for him, but I leaned more to this one instead. Hope you enjoy. And to those who reviewed Thank You.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

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><p>Fate is the second thing mankind has come to fear, death being the first, and as such history is filled with those fools who attempted to change, or even go as far as to control, their own fates. Each one met their end with the first fear as dictated by the second. No one can control the life they are born in, but they can change the way they live that life, that was the idea of one man that lead him down the path to eternal damnation that would follow him in the past, present, and future. <p>

The void seemed to go on for ages, but the man continued his trek, the fires of hell could not turn him around. He had to do this, to save himself, and hopefully the ones most important to him. Darkness took shape as a throne appeared before him, poised on it was a monster in man's image. This beast was waiting; it knew this moment would come. It was **counting** on it. The creature smiled at the man, "Who the fuck do you think you are to do what you did?" A hiss filled the air as the wind picked up, "You dare think you can get away with it. You pussy, I will see to it your bones are turned to ash when I am done with you." The monster's tongue slithered out, licking his lips in anticipation for each venom filled word. "Mark my words; you will suffer a fate that even the demons in the hellfire would be scared of." Laughter followed as the void closed in along the man, "You'll see, Brahe. You'll see." Darkness took over again but his words bounced around the void. _You'll see _

_You'll see _

_You'll see_

_**You'll see**_

Tycho shot up from his sleep, his body shivering from the cold sweat that followed the dream. He placed his hands against his head trying to rid all trace of memories of the nightmare like one does disease filled fleas. _Dammit, he just will not go,_ his thoughts were spiraling out of control, but this was no time for fear. He was a warlord after all; an emperor of a growing empire built on the blood and bones of his enemies. The idea was enough to calm his nerves, but he could still hear those words in the back of his head, the roots were digging in.

His bedroom was of elegant design and color, crimson red wood, a chair and a drawer here and there to fill up the empty space, a bed made daily by his personal servants/slaves. It would be a lie if he said he used any of the things at all, his time was spent in his library, a personal haven away from the world where he could escape to when he needs to clear his mind. Two bookshelves that reached the ceiling, two elegant windows, and a red wood desk; of all the rooms in his palace this was the perfect place for someone like him. He rose from his makeshift bed/desk to restore the blood flow to his legs. Smoothing out his favorite blue kimono, you know the one with the light blue lining around the edges of it, he heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," his tone hinting that he did not want to be disturbed. The door opened to a woman striding in, but it was more of a strut really, her curvaceous hips, and well endowed chest, swaying with each foot step. She flicked her sun bleached hair, as it fell before her ice cold eyes and fair snow skin, her silk dress practically clinging to her skin like a life preserver. Did I mention she is not also a not-very-special person, no, then forget I said anything. She smiled at her master before bowing, "My lord, I though you would like to know the prisoner has awakened."

Tycho shuddered at her imitation of human characteristics; he had to remind himself on a daily basis of her true identity or fall victim to her web. "Thank you for the report, now go," he demonstrated his dominance in his tone, but she did not sway, if anything she got off on it.

She arose, letting her eyes meet his. "If I might make one request, my lord, I was wondering," she plumped out her lips like she was programmed to do when necessary to obtain something, "when you are done with him if I might have the pleasure of fucking him on your bed."

Tycho gritted his teeth before reaching into his kimono and pulling out a wooden device with a hollowed out log on top. He pulled the trigger igniting the back end, sending a spike through the women's head. She gasped out before she fell to the floor, her blood trickling out of her skull. He could feel his teeth about to give when he shouted, "Don't you dare make a mess on the carpet, Ex!"

Ex brought her hand up to the spike pulling it out of her head. "I guess I take that as a no then," she lifted her body up off the ground, tucking the spike away in her dress for later nighttime uses. She crossed her arm, that smile still planted on her face even though blood half covered it, "That still doesn't change the fact that the samurai is awake and waiting for your appearance."

"Fine," Tycho placed his device back in his kimono and signaled for Ex to leave. She bowed before blowing a kiss to him as she walked off, deciding today she would fuck the entire staff in one go in the broom closet.

Tycho sighed placing a hand against his temple, thankfully Ex's little intrusion was enough to rub the last bit of the dream from his head, now all he could hear is the "You'll" part. 

A drip of water, scurrying rats, cries and wails of the downtrodden, this was definitely the dungeon. Master Tycho Brahe made his way down the stone hall, prisoners cursing him out as he walked by, but he paid them no heed. His mind was currently settled on the situation at the moment. His long time enemy was found on the brink of death on the outskirts of a destroyed village, and was brought before _him_ of all people. On any given day he would have happily finished the job, but on that day he could not. One reason being he already had how he would kill him planned out: it involved a pit and a pair of his newly created Bear-Sharks, sharks with the bodies of bears. Sadly though hibernation season came around and the Bear-Sharks are now sleeping. The other reason, one that he dares not tell anyone, was that he needed the samurai alive for something else, to aid in a murder of a monster.

Behind a reinforced steel-wooden door lay a single cell, a cell with a single occupant, designed to contain only one person: the samurai.

Standing on guard was the big scout that originally found him, and behind the 6-inch thick steel bars, with his arms bound behind his back in chains, and his legs shackled together, was the samurai.

Tycho had trouble opening the door given its weight, but after a few minutes he succeeded in squeezing in. He approached the cell, his hand reaching out for one of the bars. His eyes fell on the samurai, and with a smile he said, "Hello, Gabriel."

The samurai lifted his head and eyed the warlord, "This cell of yours stinks, I told you last time I was in here it could use a few pillows."

Tycho grinned, "Yeah, I made a note of that somewhere, but unfortunately my hand slipped and it landed in a fire that was conveniently placed under my hand. Darn the luck."

The big not-so-special scout was definitely a formidable guard, standing high over his master, and three times as thick as the bars on the cell. Some moments Tycho felt intimidated by him, but he reminded himself that he would never hurt him. As an added note, during those moments it is not his height that intimidates him, it's his intelligence.

"Leave us, Olivu," the big guard fidgeted for a moment, eyeing the two, the wheels in his mind in a constant spin. He gave a bow to his lord before he made his way to the exit. The door clanged loudly as it was placed back into place with ease, leaving the two alone.

"You can stop pretending now you are still locked up," the samurai did not miss a beat, allowing the chains on his arms to slide off, and he daintily lifted his legs out of the shackle. He stretched his arms out, moving his previously injured one to see if it healed completely yet.

"Now that you are a bit more comfortable I was hoping you would not mind enlightening me as to what exactly happened to you," Master Brahe had a hunch, but he needed confirmation whether or not what he believed was true or not.

The samurai did not meet his gaze, "I want my tube back, please."

The warlord scoffed, "It is safe, and you can get it back _after _you tell me everything."

A sigh left the samurai as he sat down on the ground, "Isn't it obvious what happened? Someone massacred that entire village, and I found them and killed them, didn't your scouts find the body?"

A shiver ran up Brahe's spine, "There was no body other than yours and the villagers."

"Impossible," whined the samurai choosing to not believe him, "I saw him die right before I blacked out, he was just a few feet in front of me."

"I am telling you the truth, there was no one there," Tycho turned away from the cell as his brain already processed the little information given to him thus far to confirm his suspicions.

The samurai had his doubts, but with the way that guy fought, and that strange weapon of his, he could not help but believe the words of Brahe.

"Perhaps then," Tycho turned to the samurai with a hint of joy in his eyes, "it is time for us to venture further into this mystery then." 

The row on the book cases were filled to the brim with books of different varieties. Even the samurai had to give praise to Brahe for amassing such a collection. Though it seemed the two had called a temporary truce, Master Tycho still had his personal servants stand guard with them in his library. The hulking one from before, who the samurai believes to be called Olivu ("what a strange name"), a very _gifted_ woman who is sending him kissy faces with a fresh scar on her forehead and hair that was sticking up in a few places. A young girl who he recognized as the one with Olivu when they found him was giggling to herself as she ran around. But the fourth one, a boy, leaning against the wall in the back was sending him death glares for no reasons. Four not-so-special guards, to say six people were in the library would be wrong and you are dumb for thinking so, honestly, there are two.

"Let's see here now where did I put that book," Tycho climbed up a ladder he placed against one of the shelves, looking through a few books as he climbed. When he reached the top he exclaimed with joy as he pulled out a book, "Here it is." He then threw it across the room smacking the brooding boy in the head, "Get off your lazy ass Gnay and fetch me the Book."

Gnay flipped him off as he rubbed his cheek, he really didn't want to be here in the first place. For all he cares they all can go fuck themselves, but Ex did not count though since she already did that earlier that morning. He whistled to the young girl, and the two of them approached the opposite bookshelf from where their master was on the ladder. They both pushed in a book on the opposite end of the lower row, causing the whole bookshelf to quake before it slid outward revealing a medium-sized black box with a skull on it. "This is your thing, Niy," the boy said as he left the girl there to return to his wall.

She nodded happily as she pulled a key out from around her neck, placing it into the lock, causing the skull to release its bite on the lower part of the box. It lifted revealing a very old and tattered book beneath. Tycho climbed down calling for Ex, who produced two leathery, and quite rotten, gloves. Olivu approached the book and lifted it from its crypt.

The samurai felt uneasy the moment he saw the book, it looked normal on the outside, but something told him to stay away from it.

Master Brahe used Olivu as a book stand as he placed his hands in the gloves. Carefully he grabbed the book's front cover opening it, the four guards shuddered. He took gentle and precise swipes at the pages to turn them, sweat falling from his brow as if one wrong mistake could kill them all.

"Here it is," he said eyeing the page.

"According to this it says you met what is known as a 'Ghost', and not the spooky kind that says 'boo', but the kind that still has skin."

He continued reading, "Warriors who sold their very soul to obtain the gift of immortality, each one bounded to a single tool of destruction. No one has ever seen a Ghost and lived to tell the tale. Four is the number that exists, four Ghosts, four weapons. According to this book, it says they were made by a mad man who said he was doing the task set upon him by some otherworldly being, and when he was done he casted his weapons into the flames of Mt. Tenin to keep them from ever being used by man."

"Do you know what the weapons are," the samurai could feel this heavy weight on his chest the more the book stayed out, and with each second he felt the desire to touch it.

"It does not, but there is a little rhyme for it though:

_A demon casted into a child's whim_

_To condemn all to a fate most grim_

_The power of stars contained as they clash_

_Help reduce the world to ash_

_Cold touch of death bound to a snake_

_It bites with venom and causes nature to shake_

_Twisting the heart of the strife _

_Spreading death where should be life_

_But the sun will rise and spread the light_

_With nature's strength it will end the devilish night_

Huh, kind of catchy." The ending was a puzzling thing though, but Tycho had a theory, maybe in time he could see whether it was true or not.

"Is that all," the samurai was panting now as he paced back and forth, a voice in his head was shouting now for him to remain calm.

"Pretty much," shrugged Tycho turning the pages to double-check.

"That can't be right," the samurai dashed forward, Olivu could not move his hand to stop him for risk dropping the book and the other three were distracted, but Tycho saw with dread as the samurai grabbed the edge of the book.

The library gave away into a void. 

Around him he could hear whispers and the wind as it seemed to hasten him forward. In the darkness he could see a throne and with it a man. The man grinned at him, "Hello, Jonathan. Fancy meeting you here." His neck snapped as his head angled into a 90 degree dip, "I see you are with **him**, and since you are here maybe you can pass along a message for me." The man stood before the samurai, his wide eyes examining him. He reached out a hand and brushed the samurai's cheek; the samurai felt the skin on the point of contact sear as it seemed to burn itself to prevent contact from this man. "Tell him that I am still pissed. Tell that fucking prick that I am coming for him. Can you do that, you are a bitch after all aren't you?" The samurai could not reply his voice was frozen in his throat. "You do whatever fate tells you like a fucking bitch right? Can you bark like one? Better yet," the grin grew, "let's see you beg like one." Before the hand containing the blade could meet the samurai's skull the darkness faded away to books, and the light drove the image away. 

"Don't ever touch the book, Gabriel," Tycho was fuming and the samurai looked up at him from the ground. The shock of the thing he saw caused him to fall over the moment his fingers left the book. What felt like an eternity only was a few seconds here. He watched as the four personal guards used their hands to delicately place the book back into its container, the seal was placed to keep the book at bay.

"It doesn't matter anyway," grumbled Master Brahe, "we have bigger problems, so I recommend you start packing for we will be leaving soon."

"Leaving for what?"

"We are heading to Mt. Tenin, the resting place of those weapons, and the birthplace of The Ghosts," Tycho turned to him, "We might as well start at square one and see where that takes us."

The samurai watched him leave, his hand landing on his cheek, and a shiver ran up his spine at the fresh wound. 

"So, do you think he is dead then," Ms. Pinky was rather agitated at all the waiting they were doing. She was currently sitting on the ledge of the third floor balcony with Mr. Blinky, and as of late Mr. C. had locked himself up into his room with Mr. Inky.

Mr. Blinky ignored her question, focusing instead on the moon, in his head he could see scraps of old memories drift around, the faces though in the images have long been scratched out.

"No, given how he fought I highly doubt he would die that easily," he was about to leave when Mr. Inky stepped outside with them. His already fidgety appearance extra spastic tonight, "Mr. C. says he is still alive, and is at Warlord Tycho Brahe's palace." He pointed a finger to Ms. Pinky, "He commands you to go and finish him."

Ms. Pinky smiled as she jumped off the ledge she was sitting on, "About time, never send a man to do a woman's job."

"Don't underestimate him, you might find yourself back here before you know it," Mr. Blinky secretly was hoping she would fail, and then he would get another chance at fighting him.

"Are you worried about me, how sweet, and here I was thinking you were gay," her boastful laugh followed her as she left the two behind.

"Um," Mr. Inky folded into himself, fearful of speaking out, "she should be fine, given she has the White Dragon on her side."

"True, but then again, you never really know what could happen," Mr. Blinky returned his gaze to the moon, bathing in its light to have the feeling of being normal once again. But in the end his mind would not let him, for he is nothing more than a Ghost after all.

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><p>The other idea was a hermit, but I felt that was a tad bit too bland for him. I hope you enjoyed it, again sorry about the wait.<p> 


	3. Behind the Curtain

No time to explain. Chapter now!

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

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><p>What could be more fun than an adventure? Anything but an adventure in the opinion of Emperor Tycho of course, there was the sun beating relentlessly down on you hoping to make a fire from your skin, the threat of danger around any corner from passing bandits. Yet the need to go on this journey with the samurai was too much for him to ignore. He may not enjoy it but maybe he can learn a few things while on this trip.<p>

The duo began their trek to the great mountain Tenin, the birthplace of the Ghosts, and according to the book it lies far to where the sun meets the land before fading. It was a simple trip, nothing too eventful, except for that one moment in that one particular village, where that one particular person made an appearance. But I'm getting ahead of myself; first we must keep our appointment with one gentleman who doesn't exist.

Darkness, all around his throne is nothing but living darkness. He sits on a raised piece of dead earth, upon a throne manufactured from the darkness that seems to recoil at his presence. He is lying across his throne with his feet resting on one armrest. He groaned out a yawn, "I'm bored off my ass here. Other than that one dumbass grabbing the book nothing else has happened. I'm a man damnit! I have needs too right, Nexus?"

Standing at the foot of the hill that is his throne was a hooded clad man who shuddered at his master's command. "Yes, master, you do."

"Exactly," the master straightened himself on his seat, "that is why I feel it is time to pay a visit to our favorite walking pile of shit."

"Do you mean-"

"Shut up daddy's talking!"

Nexus cowered to the floor, "Yes, master."

"Now as I was saying I'm going to go pay a visit to dipshit and hope maybe I can break a few bones in the process. While I'm doing this I'm counting on you, Nexus, to go fetch my beloved book. It's way overdue now for its return and I want it."

"But, sir," Nexus rose to his feet taking small steady steps towards his master, "as you know the book is guarded by _them_, sir. _He _made sure to leave _them_ with him so _they _can protect the book."

The master rolled his eyes and sighed as he descended from his throne. He slipped a few times letting loose a flurry of curses as he landed on the floor on his ass. He got on his feet dusting off his robe as he then proceeded to reach out and rip off the lower jaw of Nexus. Nexus attempted to scream but his tongue was taken with his master. Nexus grasped at the wound as he fell back on the floor.

"Do I look like I give two FUCKS about those four idiots? No I do not. Now I want you to go get my book and don't come back unless you have it unless you want me to rip off more body parts." The master dropped the jaw to the floor as he walked back to his throne. He rubbed his head out of annoyance as he resumed his place on the edge. "I have had enough of this constant bickering and striking of paradigms across a field of synapses. My plan must go forward, I must begin the end process and that idiot of a man, the self-proclaimed Emperor, will be the one to usher it in whether he wants to or not. It calls and he will answer."

Nexus attached his lower jaw weeping out a thank you to his most forgiving and loving master, "I will do what you command, and I will go."

"Just go," the master yawned out.

Nexus left without another word.

The master sighed heavily as he crossed his legs, he stared up into nothing. The eyes in the shadows were watching intently, waiting for the next part like the good audience it was; always watching expecting a show out of him as if he was some sort of puppet being led around by a string made of words. The master gritted his teeth, "Fuck it, I'm out!" He stormed off his throne, tripping once again on the way down. He cursed out his robe and left.

* * *

><p>I'm soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry for the wait. I just had no time to give this the proper attention it deserved and you the reader only deserve the best from me. Granted this is not my best but I have to get back into the mind set of writing this stuff; I'm a bit rusty at the moment. Hope you're not too sore. Feel free to be mad, I know I'm a bad writer because my dog tells me so. Hopefully I can be a bit better with updates but I cannot promise anything. Again I'm sorry.<p> 


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